The Last Morning
by Victoria Breckon
Summary: A brisk last morning turns out to be one of great sentiment.


Kurt's shielding eyelids slid open slowly, transforming his vision from blissful, sleepy darkness to a harsh light of early dawn. His eyelashes lazily drooped over his crystal eyes as his mind slowly began to comprehend that life was around him and that he was awake in it. His arms were tangled around Blaine's bare torso and together they met above the beginning of his abdomen, at Kurt's favorite place; it was where the muscle was less-contracted, where the skin wasn't stretched quite as tight and pooled in the tiniest of excesses like a wad of pasty, fresh dough. While it was the token of Blaine's insecurities, it was among Kurt's favorite places to cuddle, praise and pepper with kisses. Kurt never wanted Blaine to feel bad about himself; a key coding of his DNA was rooted in the complexity of his over's, his best friend's, his fiancé's feelings toward himself and towards his body.

He squeezed his arms ever so slightly, his hands grazing the contours of his crooked elbows while his fingers wrapped around the angles of his bent arms. A low grunt, a clearing of the throat was the first noise Kurt uttered in the new day. It was as if he was greeting the morning in a protest for "just five more minutes!" of this perfect feeling.

Slowly, Kurt's senses awoke, bringing in a tidal wave of smells and sights and noise and details: wrinkled sheets; the soft billowing of a curtain from the open window, like am other's calming breath washing over her child's face in a brisk wave of cooling comfort; the purple and blue beginnings of a bruise under Blaine's sensitive earlobe; the way his chocolate curls were a little too long and wrapped around the nape of his neck; the wiry, dark scruff that overtook his golden brown and slightly blushed visage, beginning by his bulging Adam's apple and tapering off at the high mountains that were his cheekbones; the noise emitting from a left-on radio, piercing the air with the dulcet big band stylings of an artist swept awry by Top 40 Hits and skanky artists; the aroma of a pumpkin candle that accented the mood that Mother Nature was bringing to the trees and wind and temperature. The detail that Kurt noticed the most, however, was the intricate movement of Blaine's muscles that was concentrated at his shoulder; they were working together like cogs on a wheel, lifting and supporting and stretching. It was at that moment that Kurt heard the faint _scratch scratch scratch _of an ink pen against some paper.

Gently, Kurt lifted his head from the pillow that was the warm, sticky space between Blaine's neck and shoulder and placed a lazy kiss where his ear met his cheek. He fingered the plain gold chain around his neck and smooshed his nose against the contours of his define jaw line, pressing his body closer to Blaine's back and shifting the blankets that cocooned them together.

Blaine set his pen and pad down and shifted his body so that he was facing his fiancé. He pressed his lips temptingly close to Kurt's, skimming the corner and nudged his nose against his; he felt Kurt's arms tighten around his bare back, pulling him closer to him so that they became a tangle of legs and arms and sheets and emotions.

"Good morning." Blaine murmured his hazel eyes waltzing with Kurt's.

His breath smelled faintly of coffee that was masked by peppermint toothpaste and the scent of Calvin Klein for men lingered on his neck from the previous evening. A tiny pink smile stretched Kurt's lips against Blaine's as he leaned in for a lazy kiss. "Good morning." He replied in a husky voice. Blaine drove him absolutely mad with desire when he was too comfortably lazy in the morning to put in his contacts and when he went a few days without shaving, when his hair wasn't contained in a pound of raspberry hair gel and roamed wildly in a fit of curls, and especially when he was breathy and sleepy but just awake enough to comprehend. It was a feeling of such minute awareness that inspired genius creativity and closeness and the feeling of being warm and kissed by frigid air, resulting in the establishment of miniature goose bump colonies.

Kurt repositioned his arms against Blaine's chest, bringing his hands against his shoulders; his chest leaned over his as he nuzzled his cheek against his pectoral. "Would you mind sharing with me your talent?" Kurt asked his fiancé., his tenor voice vibrating against Blaine's bare chest; this feeling resulted in his skin tensing up, concentrating energy and heat and blood to help his arm hair stand and his dark nipple peak, like a natural round of applause.

Blaine bit the bottom of his lip at the question, the pink skin puncturing under his own doing. "You mean besides being the greatest soon-to-be husband ever?"

Kurt grinned at the giddy, early morning tone that lubricated Blaine's response. He let out a rushed laugh and was pleased with the intake of air he heard from his surprised partner. "Yes, please." He blinked quickly, his extended eyelashes tickling Blaine's torso in a flurry of butterfly kisses. "What were you writing?" He clarified.

Blaine was quiet for a few moments, watching Kurt's chest rise and fall at a lazy pace, occasionally interrupted by a miniature snore.

"I promise to love you for the rest of my life," Blaine began in a thick molasses voice. He pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, letting out a soft hum as he found the courage to continue the rest; it was practice f or what would come the following day.

"For better or for worse I will stand by your side. I will do whatever is in my power to protect you, defend you, love you and care for you. I promise to be devoted solely to you and by by your side through sickness and in health, through fights and resolutions and through age and maturity and through whatever this crazy life takes us through. But mostly, Kurt, I promise to be a faithful husband, loyal best friend and passionate lover to you for the rest of my existence it you will so gladly take me."

Blaine felt a cool sensation on his chest and glanced down from his book to see Kurt's porcelain features pink and splotchy and utterly gorgeous. Suddenly his face was being smothered by his partner's; Kurt enveloped Blaine in a tight, squishy hug, his cheeks pressed against Blaine's lips, his neck to his chin, his nose to his ears and his eyes to his hairline. "You're perfect." Kurt managed to murmur through his climaxing emotions.

Blaine smiled warmly at the praise, a heated sensation that grew in his stomach and slowly licked his insides, heading North in such a fury that it generated enough energy to move his muscles to grin. I've found my perfect match." Blaine murmured against Kurt's lips.

With their eyes closed and their bodies breathing in time with each other's, they exchanged sleepy stories and hushed confessions and bold, eccentric declarations of love and adoration. Their arms wrapped around each other in an ultimate embrace, and together they reveled n what would be the last morning as simply fiancés.


End file.
